


An Unconventional Battle

by dark_brohood



Series: Elder Scrolls One-Shots [11]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Civil War questline, Storming of Windhelm, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_brohood/pseuds/dark_brohood
Summary: A brother and a sister meet on the battlefield, one of them more powerful than the other thought they ever could be.
Series: Elder Scrolls One-Shots [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1110678
Kudos: 12
Collections: Holiday TES Fanfic Fest!





	An Unconventional Battle

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [AeAyem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeAyem/pseuds/AeAyem) in the [Holiday_TES_Fanfic_Fest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Holiday_TES_Fanfic_Fest) collection. 



Not that he would ever say it, but Roliric didn’t really _like_ the Last Dragonborn. She was too arrogant, too self-centred, too cavalier. She would do what she wanted, consequences be damned.

She was also his older sister.

Caullaise Cacanian had always been crass and rude, no matter what. She believed herself better than Roliric and their little brother, Luriir, and wanted everything they had. She even had the audacity to not tell them that she was the Last Dragonborn until _after_ she had saved the world–and even then, it was unintentional.

Though, it didn’t really surprise him that she was part dragon.

It had been years since they had seen each other, and in that time they had gone their separate ways. Caullaise became a mage and studied at the College of Winterhold, moving to Skyrim from their home in Cheydinhal. Luriir became a researcher, travelling from Morrowind to Valenwood and everywhere in between. Roliric became a soldier, serving the Emperor loyally until his assassination in the docks of Solitude, and because of the Stormcloak rebellion, was shipped off to Skyrim under General Tullius.

Where he met his sister. On the battlefield. Looking like she didn’t want to be there.

She didn’t notice him at first, too busy flipping her dagger around, the hilt stained with blood. She also had a conjuration staff on her back, a sword whose hilt was glowing, and she was wearing a strange armour that seemed to ripple like the night sky, a symbol of a bird with outstretched wings on the chest, its hood down, and there was a stripe of blood-red warpaint covering her eyes. All in all, she looked very strange, and Roliric couldn’t stop staring at her.

She seemed to feel his gaze, though, because she looked over at him as snow drifted around them, settling on the floor of the war camp they had set up outside Windhelm. She looked startled to see him, and then her face contorted into rage, and she stormed over to him, dagger still in hand.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, in the same bratty voice he remembered she had. She was also still taller than him by an inch, which she had lorded over him their entire childhood.

“Winning a war,” he told her, motioning to his Imperial armour. “What are _you_ doing here? I thought you were at the College of Winterhold?”

She scoffed. “I left that place years ago, after the incident with the Eye of Magnus. Surely even _you_ heard of it.”

He did. Two years earlier, a bunch of novice mages from the College had found the Eye of Magnus underneath Saarthal, and brought it back to the College to study it. Then about two months later, it exploded, and the Archmage and the Master Wizard were killed. A group of novices, the same novices that discovered the Eye, managed to find the Staff of Magnus in Labyrinthian, and stop a rogue Thalmor advisor from destroying the world.

Nobody knew who those mages were, but rumour has it that the new Archmage, a Khajiit named J’zargo, was one of them.

“Of course I have. Everyone’s heard of it. But you didn’t answer my question.”

She rolled her eyes. “General Tullius asked me to be here, and I owed him a favour.”

Roliric blinked in surprise. How did she owe the General a favour? But before he could ask, Legate Rikke told them to fall into formation, and they marched towards the gates of Windhelm, where General Tullius was waiting.

The entire time they were marching, Caullaise was walking next to them nonchalantly, obviously not one of the soldiers. They stopped at the foot of the steps of the gates, at the end of the very long bridge into the city, General Tullius standing at the top of the steps. Legate Rikke moved to stand next to him.

“All right,” he shouted at the men, as catapults launched fire rocks into the city, destroying more and more as time went on. “It’s time to deliver the final blow to the Stormcloak rebellion. You have all fought bravely, and sacrificed much to bring us to this point. Ulfric thinks he can hide behind the walls of his castle. But we will fight our way in and drag him out through the rubble to face justice. Because this is the end for them, the Stormcloaks will fight like cornered rats. They will be fierce and crafty. But they are no match for Legionnaires. You are the best and the brightest warriors in Tamriel. Professional soldiers, fearless and devastating. The Emperor will pay close attention to what happens here today. Men who distinguish themselves will be well rewarded. Ready now! Everyone, with me! For the Empire! For the Legion!”

Everyone let out war cries, and the gates were pushed open. Out of the corner of his eye, Roliric saw Caullaise pull her staff off her back, the crystals on top glowing a dark purple.

In that moment, Roliric knew this would be no ordinary battle.

He and the rest of the soldiers stormed through the gates, led by General Tullius. Somehow, Caullaise managed to get to the front of them before they impacted with the Stormcloak soldiers, who were waiting for them, and grasped her staff tightly. She slammed the end of it onto the ground, and a large dark purple portal appeared behind the Stormcloaks. Out of the portal came a storm atronach, which turned the red sky grey as it summoned storm clouds to hit the Stormcloaks with lightning.

The two armies collided, and everyone hacked and slashed at each other. Roliric expertly dodged swinging blades and axes while simultaneously stabbing, slashing and bashing as many Stormcloak rebels as he could. He smashed his shield against one person’s head, causing them to get disoriented, before cutting their head off and heading into the throng again.

He tried to keep up with what his sister was doing as he fought, but as he could die at any moment, that was kind of hard. He caught a glimpse of her thrusting up with her dagger, stabbing a Stormcloak through the bottom of their jaw, and it looked like their blood was being absorbed by the dagger, fuelling it and Caullaise.

Then the strangest thing happened. A Stormcloak soldier came up behind her and went to slash her, but an echoing word resounded throughout the chaos, and suddenly Caullaise was blue and transparent, and the sword went straight through her. Everyone that saw immediately stopped fighting, bewildered by her, as she pulled her dagger out of the person in front of her’s jaw, flipped it around, and rammed it into the soldier’s lower abdomen, turning solid. She then pulled it out and stuck it into his neck. He fell to the floor, and she kept fighting.

Roliric couldn’t stop staring at his older sister, though. The girl that had bullied him relentlessly as a kid, that always got what she wanted, was always the centre of attention–was the Last Dragonborn.

He shook himself out of his daze and skewered the nearest Stormcloak, who had his mouth hanging wide open, ogling Caullaise.

She Shouted again.

“ _TIID KLO UL!”_

Those three Words hit their ears and it suddenly felt like Roliric was moving in porridge. Everything slowed down around him, and the air felt like it was thick and gloggy, and every move had to be intentional and thought out, because the thickness of the air made it hard to correct themselves.

Caullaise didn’t seem to be affected–at least, not as much as everyone else, though it was hard to tell. She slashed and hacked, drawing the sword at her side that held a miniature sun in its hilt. She hacked and slashed at the soldiers nearby, the last couple near her, like she was a god among mortals.

Then time resumed, and a lot of people who had overcompensated their swings in the slowed time overbalanced and fell to the ground. The last couple soldiers were slaughtered, and they continued through the city.

Around corners and in narrow streets, Caullaise was at the front with General Tullius, Legate Rikke, and Roliric. She Shouted the Stormcloaks into walls, skewering some of them on their own barriers, breathed fire on some and freezing others instantly. She slowed time, put fear in the hearts of her enemies, wrenched their weapons from their grasps with only her voice, and summoned long dead warriors from Sovngarde.

Roliric could tell why General Tullius wanted her to join them. Because without her, they probably wouldn’t have been able to storm the Palace of the Kings.

Without her, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak wouldn’t have surrendered.

Without her, he wouldn’t be dead.

And without her, they wouldn’t have won the war against the rebellion.


End file.
